Sea Legs

I fell over on the bus today. Again. I am totally unable to remain standing in the aisle of the Pittsburgh buses. Why is this? I had no such trouble on the subways in NYC. I could stand with no pole or strap support and even read my book on the subway. I maintained a wide stance, kept my knees bent, and rode the tunnel like a surfboard. But the bus? Forget it.

Sometimes I do okay with certain drivers who, I think, have a good sense of appropriate breaking. But for the most part, I am a drunken sailor stumbling around out there. Today I actually crashed into an elderly lady while trying to hurry into a seat before the driver charged through a stale-yellow light. I feel like they zoom away as soon as they close the door.

The worst is trying to deboard the bus. I don't want to hold everyone up by not moving until the bus stops, but feel incapable of safely walking to the front while the driver is sporadically jerking the break pedal. Luckily my stop is usually quite popular and other people block the aisle anyway, saving me the embarassment of a staggering walk of shame.

One day soon, I know I will be carrying something either fragile or full of liquid and will end up with a face full of pea soup or glass shards in my pants. I should just walk to class. I need the exercise anyway.

Zits, Chicken

Corey's friends were over Friday evening. One of them, Seth, had a huge zit on his cheek. He kept complaining that he could see it and it drove him crazy. I am being punished for not being more sympathetic as I have grown my very own cheek zit. It lurks in the lower reaches of my vision, obstructing my view if I glance down. I am obsessing over it today. It's all I think about. I am counting down the seconds until I can go home and squeeze it. Only my mom will find out and yell at me for picking at my face. But how can you not pick at your face? If this were my windshield and something were obstructing my vision, I would be legally obligated to remove the obstruction.

In other news, Sandy from work almost got into a fight at Giant Eagle over some chicken. She took her 74 year old father to the store yesterday and he wanted some individual pieces of cooked chicken to munch throughout the week. The lady at the counter was freaking out because it's cheaper to just buy a whole cooked chicken. She kept insisting he buy the whole chicken. So Sandy says "Look, he just wants the legs." And the lady came around the counter and tried to fight Sandy for having attitude! Over some chicken! Can you imagine? If I worked at the chicken counter, I would proabably be full of rage, too. But fighting a little old man and his daughter cause they don't want a bargain? Come on! She was probably upset because she had a zit on her cheek that she could see.

Refreshed

I finally feel better. I got a LOT of work done this weekend at the expense of doing fun things Friday night. Which is ok. It's tough balancing the guilt of missing a birthday party for your friend with the guilt of not doing things for grad school. I felt like I was drowning last week as more and more things came between me and my writing and my homework. But not anymore!

Nance and Sam came for the weekend. I got to show them the rivers and Corey and I got them to go for a walk with us around Point Park and over 2 of the pedestrian bridges. My mom scuffed a shoe, but I think it was worth it. My dad was a big baby and wouldn't ride the incline, so we had to drive up Mt. Washington to show them the view. Either way, it's still spectacular. At least he got to see it!

But I think the highlight of the visit was the Steeler-mania scene at the Strip Saturday morning. You literally could not walk down the street because the throngs of people in head to toe black and gold were pushing and pushing to buy eyelash scarves or shiny hats or dyed flowers or upholstered pillows to support their team. Everywhere we went, we felt out of place not wearing a football jersey or some sort of puff-paint homemade sweatshirt celebrating the victory. It's crazy and wild and I love it. Right now, I feel like I could hang out with anyone in this town and feel comfortable chatting about football and the Steelers atmosphere. I wanted to introduce my parents to strangers. "Hey guys! Here are my parents! They support our team!" I feel like they would have gotten some hugs or at least a high five.

Weariness

I am tired in my bones. I don't know if I am cut out for the life of a graduate student for one reason: evening shift. For all intents and purposes, I have a second shift job right now. My classes are all at night, my tutoring shifts are at night. Each day I work different hours...it's exhausting. I know, cry me a river. But it's my forum and I'm tired. Why are graduate classes at night? Why can't I be in bed by 9pm instead of just finishing up a tutoring session and having to wait for a bus? What will happen to me when I start having rugby practice in the evenings? Then I won't have one single evening where I am home before 9pm. Ever. I guess I should think back to Malcolm Gladwell and start conditioning myself that evening is ok. Just roll with it. But when will I cook with butter and Julia Child if I'm learning and doing things all night long?? All I want to do right now is eat chocolate chips and watch Sopranos reruns.

Visioning

Yesterday for class, we envisioned the future for the writing center project I work with at the Hill House. For an hour and a half, we sat around drawing pictures in groups. Pictures of representative vehicles, like pretend ferris wheels or angry subway cars. We drew stage scenes, forests, lots of picturs. Our homework for next week is to draw a picture then write about it. For awhile, I was thinking "Holy crap! All we do in this class so far is draw!!"

Then, we starting brainstorming things we needed for the center and lo and behold, we were thinking clearly. Ideas that wouldn't have occured to us to mention! Like who thinks to mention that you need chairs AND tables? Or a room with only one door so people aren't passing through en route to somewhere else? Through our group drawings, we revealed that a sense of community interaction was important to us, light, energy...I feel like I'm a convert.

Naomi, one of our potential students, was there. It was an open meeting and I was glad she came. We asked her what her goals were for a public creative writing class, and her goal was to be stimulated. She said that visioning discussion was the most stimulating thing she had done for awhile. It made my heart ache that students are so uninspired by school. Am I such a visionary, naive freak? I feel like I want to storm the schools and teach Orwell like Mr. Shank did, get the kids drawing Narnia scenes, act out parts of Brave New World. (I've always been into dystopia...) I hope that, once we finally start working with the public, that we can stimulate them at the very least. I am sooooooo antsy for the classes to begin!!

Strange Fame?

This morning I got a call from my friend...the one who insists a Steelers SuperBowl win would feel better than winning the national rugby championship. "Are you Katy and Corey's Pittsburgh Experience?" Right there, in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the columnist had printed my blog entry in today's paper. It's right here: http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/06024/643164.stm

I feel strange inside. Happy about being published in the paper. Happy about having readers. Frightened of being exposed? "Isn't that the point of having a blog? Isn't that part of the RISK??" said Tricia. She's right. This is the life I seek...being published for a wide audience. Maybe the strangeness I feel inside is just excitement.

Such Yelling

It is a zoo here. Absolute pandemonium. The Steelers Victory yesterday has set this town on fire. Maybe literally? The moment I stepped outside to go home after my football party, I could here the screaming in the streeets. I was in the South Hills watching the game--the suberbs!--and people were shooting fireworks and running through the streets. When I got into the tunnels, people were just laying on their horns to make a joyous noise.

Some people were running along the highways with "Welcome to Blitzburgh" banners. Almost everyone had some sort of Bus slogan written on their car.

At one point, in Oakland, people were running up to the cars and banging on the hoods while they spun Terrible Towels over their heads. Students jumped on roofs. Even now, at 8am, the honking and yelling has not stopped. All through the night, practically every car that stopped at the four-way intersection outside my apartment treated the neighborhood to a round of honking in response to a party of people who braved the freezing rain to stand outside and shake towels.

I have never seen anything like this in my entire life. I have never seen an entire town band together like this in support. During the game, the guys I was watching with had these strange little rituals they seemed unable to control. Like they didn't even consciously wave the towels around, it just happened at certain points in the game. Like a tic. I find it all very interesting and uplifting. It's impossible to not be a happy person in this city right now. I wonder if Steelers fans love the Steelers more than RedSox fans love the RedSox?

Productivity!

I had an excellent weekend so far. I am reading Adventure Divas as suggested by Professor Faith. It has been so inspiring and helpful for my research. I actually sat down and wrote for an extended period of time yesterday! It was amazing. I felt very cleansed by the experience. I think the book is mostly helping me think of stimulating questions I would like to pose to my subjects. I'm very excited for my interview with the carpenter chick next Wednesday.

Corey and I went to the Ethiopian restaurant to celebrate his birthday in advance. I think they are starting to recognize me there. I guess that's ok. We actually branched out this time and tried some other items on the menu. Success! The yellow split pea dish is my new mission in life to replicate. I cannot live a day longer without that yellow split pea soup recipe. It was sweet and earthy and very cuminy. Surely somewhere on the great wide web there lies a recipe for Ethiopian yellow split peas.

We went upstairs to continue celebrating. JP was cooking Moraccan food in his Moraccan food cooking device. I can never remember or pronounce the name of it. It's ceramic and tall and pointy and makes delicious stew. Then we played Settlers of Cataan all night long.

I have definitely decided I have an addictive personality. Once I get involved in a game like that, I can't stop. It's like Katamari. I played for way too many hours yesterday despite my productivity. Now, I have Cataan on the brain. All I want to do is beg them for a rematch so I can build settlements on more productive resource tiles. I was thinking about it while I was making lunch and almost made food mistakes, not to mention dropped diced peppers into the gas flame.

And I'm certainly addicted to rugby. There is no question about that. I think that addiction has a much larger hold over my life than the others. I mean I have quit stable jobs and moved to strange cities based solely on their proximity to women's rugby clubs and kids I can coach. Hmmm, perhaps I don't love rugby as I previously thought but am instead addicted to it as one gets to cocaine?

Hopefully, a nice dose of Steelers victory will cure my obsession with other games for the moment. I'm off to an actual party where men will yell and throw things and my writer friends and I will not psychoanalyze the players and their celebration techniques.

Dentist

Last night, my friend confessed to me that she refuses to get her teeth cleaned or go to the dentist for any reason. I don't understand this behavior. I know she is not alone in her attitude. The last time I went to the dentist, they told me some frightening statistic...like only 40% of people get their teeth cleaned or something terrifying like that. And, says my hygienist, most of the people who come in are making their first visit in years because something is rotting in their mouths.

Now, I don't particularly enjoy the dentist myself. I personally find the brushing there worse than the scraping. This is probably because I don't have much scraping to be done because I brush and floss regularly and don't build up hard deposits. The brushing is horrible. I can feel it for weeks. But you know what would feel a lot worse? Rotten teeth falling out of my mouth as I bite into apples. Or getting corn stuck in the holes in my gums from the diseases I would get without proper dental care.

People should take care of their teeth. I'm taking a stand on this one. I will not be swayed! You only get one set and I have seen what happens when you let them go. If nothing else, let the idea of having to gum your way through steak at your grandchildren's wedding reception motivate you to get your choppers cleaned regularly.

Blink

I wanted to spend the next several hours fuming about administrative crap I'm dealing with at school. But you know what? That doesn't do me any good. I've already located a proactive solution to my problem, and dwelling and fuming about it will not make me feel better, nor will it help me sleep.

I just finished reading Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. That book is so amazing. I had no idea how powerful our subconscious could be. Gladwell's message through the book is that we need to be aware of the power of this subconscious ability to make snap decisions and then use this awareness to change the way we act and live. For example, if I hang a sign above my desk encouraging me to think positive thoughts and react with calm, I am priming my self conscious to do so. When I am faced with a potential administrative disaster through the University, I can then think positive thoughts and react with calm.

Several months ago, I hung three goals on my refridgerator. Rather than dwell on negative thoughts, rather than fester the stress and insomnia, I shall instead focus on positive, proactive measures to meet my goals. I WILL teach creative writing in some capacity this summer. I WILL get accepted to a writing residency program and I WILL secure funding for the 2006/7 school year.

In the meantime, I have started The Tipping Point, also by Gladwell, to see if he reveals any other lifestyle-changing suggestions.

Insomnia

I haven't slept since last Thursday. I don't know why. The first couple nights, I was out really late and couldn't sleep in. But since then, I just lie in bed awake. Last night, I tried reading boring literature, but it ended up being interesting and kept me up. So then I started reading my friends' writing for workshop. That was obviously interesting and there I was awake at 130 am after trying to be asleep since 1030.

The worst part of this is that I deliberately scheduled time in each afternoon to do work and now I have to spend that time napping if I want to stay alive. I do everything I'm supposed to. I nap for only a half hour so it doesn't keep me up at night. I put on lavender lotion before bed, drink chammomile tea.

I have been a total failure when it comes to exercise lately, so perhaps that is the problem. My body isn't tired because it hasn't done a damn thing. It's very possible. I can't remember a winter off season where I did less physical activity. Although, I couldn't exactly fit in a 1.5 hour workout this afternoon when I had to nap to stay sane and then do schoolwork before tutoring tonight. I feel like I'm in a wheel of sleepless, exerciseless non-health. And I'm cooking with butter as I go along.

I guess the only thing to do is finish today, take some Nyquil tonight, and make sure to exercise tomorrow. I hope this works. I feel like a zombie right now.

Those Germans!

Well I have been shamed by a German girl who is better at Katamari than I am. I taught this girl Katamari and she has the gall to finish the game before me??? How can this be? Apparently, she is a gloater as well as a finisher. Last week, I was forced to admit to my advisor that I have not been working on my manuscript this semester because I have been putting in three to four hours of Katamari each day in a vain attempt to finish the damn campfire level. I located the cousin and the royal present for that level, but when I try to roll them up, I waste too much time and never get big enough to roll up the pile of wood.

I feel so challenged by Em's comment on my blog that I suspect I will not finish this post and work until class as I had intended. Instead, I will sit on the loveseat and sweat while I roll up roast and mushrooms. Who made these games so addictive???

And I really wanted to get work done this week, too, so I could watch the Steelers again this weekend. Those guys have inundated my life. This week, I'm participating in faculty interviews at Pitt. (They let grad students do that here!) The first twenty minutes of this morning's job talk were dedicated to the Bus. No rhetoric theory. No comp fancy talk. Just the Bus and how crazy he must have felt Saturday afternoon.

I wonder if he went home and played Katamari to calm himself down? The Bus is such a mover and a shaker, I feel certain he could easily beat the campfire stage.

Drive the Bus

The Steelers just won! I had a football party. Although I don't know whether my football party counts as a playoff party in the traditional sense. It was four female writers and Corey watching football and eating pita and pizza and chocolate. We asked him questions about the rules pretty much without stopping. He was a really good explainer. I had fun.

This means all those dudes I saw Friday night sporting the "bustache" won't be shaving it off any time soon. I wonder what chaos is happening in the streets right now. Llana, who arrived late to the party, said they made an announcement in Whole Foods when the Steelers scored. You know you're in a football friendly place when the granola kids at Whole Foods are announcing the score. I love the team spirit in this town.

Last night I hung out at Ruggers all night with Jenny Lui. The whole Angels team was there, so it was awesome because I knew everyone and Jenn knows most of them. I got numerous free drinks for being an out of towner and supporting the Steelers and then I got a free cheesesteak sandwich. It was altogether a great time.

The streets were teeming with Steelers supporters. People were hugging. I remember Tricia saying in college that she would feel more involved and proud if the Steelers won a superbowl than she felt when we won the collegiate national championship in rugby. At first I was flabbergasted that any woman would feel more a part of something she watched than something she made happen herself, but after seeing the way this town embraces Dem Stillers, I can see why she would feel that way.

The Steelers might as well be a fourth river in this town. I love it!

Gist Street Readings

Pittsburgh definitely has a cool ass bohemian/writer scene. Last night was probably the best $3 evening money could buy. I went to the Gist Street reading series to hear Professor Faith and Tim Seibles read. It was such an amazing experience! The readings are all held in the loft of a sculpture gallery. This guy lets us all hang out in his living quarters. First, the first floor is totally filled with this enormous sculpted mural. All three floors are decorated with the most interesting artwork ever. Then, after you pay your $3, you get entered in a raffle to win the artists' books among other things (like freaking Terrible Towels). Your entry fee also gets you homemade bread, many tables full of cheese, pizza, and other snacks the guests bring. Plus, it's BYO Wine.

So essentially, everyone gets good and sloshed and stuffed while we sit around an ancient bathtub, staring at the most interesting living space in the entire world, and then Tim begins to speak and the world stops moving. I don't even really like modern poetry too much, but he made me want to study it for years. His words seeped from his fingers as he closed his eyes and conducted the room while he read. He was amazing.

After, everyone went to a cool bar called Gooskys on Polish Hill. I drank several Cheap Bastard Specials (PBR from a bottle! $1.50!) and enjoyed free ping pong, a gas fireplace, and a dirty room filled with persian rugs and Johnny Cash. It was an altogether satisfying and awesome evening.

Where was Corey in all this?, you wonder. He was supposed to be taking his bike team to Penn State for a training weekend. But since it went from 70 degrees to 30 degrees last night and has been snowing steadily ever since, I think we can all agree it was a better idea to stay home. He went out boozing with the neighbors upstairs. I came home and we played Katamari together. It was awesome.

That Crazy Corey; Pea Soup

This morning when I got to work, as I was unlocking the office door I noticed a very peculiar thing on my keyring. Rather than leave the soy milk cap thingy in its usual place on the counter, he attached it to my keyring! That crazy boy! I laughed for almost fifteen minutes, sank to my knees and cried. I have to think of something to get him back. He cannot win this prank war.

He thinks he is so clever. He thinks this gets me back for stuffing school pictures of my cousin into every single pair of his socks. Well this does not equal that!

I will now get no work done today as I try to come up with a retaliatory prank...

In other news, I have spilled a pint of pea soup in my new brown bag from Dina. My fabulous bag, which gets numerous complements each day, is now full of garlicy/thymey/bay leafy broth. You wouldn't think a faux suede bag could be so absorbant, but it can. There is broth on the fur trim, it's dripping from the brown piping. It's everywhere. Even worse, I have no broth in my pea soup for lunch. Instead, I have a brick of green gunge. I'm sure it will still be delicious. Would the Goya bag recipe lead me astray?

Steak with Butter, Hill House

I just finished eating the best food in the whole freaking world. Julia Child knows rattatouile like I know knitting. I can't even explain what was different about her way of preparation that made the flavors explode like they did, but my GOD! That was good food. I can't even say anything about the biftek au buerre or cheesy orzo I made with it. All I can think about is the way the tomatoes disintegrated in a pool of delicious zucchini/onion/eggplant/pepper/garlic goodness. If there is ever anyone I want to impress with some food, that is the dish I shall prepare. I can barely control my impulse to run to the fridge and eat it cold with my fingers. (Although doing so wouldn't be so unusual. Nobody ever said I had willpower)

Today I had my first class in the Hill House. I don't meet the potential workshop students until next week, but I still feel very confused about the class. What am I supposed to teach? How will I be able to make a difference? I also feel nervous that we have to focus on craft. I'm not sure I understand enough about story arc, characterization, etc to teach it to others. If those elements show up in my work, it's purely a result of having read so many books and learning subconsciously. Anyway, I really look forward to meeting the staff and residents next Tuesday.

My belly is so full right now! If I were a good grad student, I would sign off and write my workshop piece until 2am. Instead, I'm going to watch an episode of the Sopranos which I've already seen and probably put in at least 2 hours of Katamari before falling asleep on the sofa. Why??

Sing-Along

So every time I think I left the crazies behind when I left New York City, Pittsburgh proves me wrong. Tonight, at 10 pm when I was miserably waiting in the cold for my bus home from campus, an elderly lady sat next to me on the bench. She began wrapping herself in scarves, hats, gloves, and a red parka before telling me all about how much she enjoys her continuing education classes in the film department. She listed faculty members, asked me what I was doing there, and then said "Do you like to sing?"

This lady then tried to get me to join her political sing-along group that meets Wednesdays and Saturdays on Mount Washington. They already have a piano player and a guitar player, so I would just need to sing if I went. I'm not sure at what stage in life people stop recognizing body language. I had my feet propped up on the glass wind wall, my head hanging back over the bench, eyes closed. I rubbed my cold thighs with my gloves and prayed for my bus to come. I had to cram in between two fat people in order to not sit near her on the bus.

Earlier in the day, Dr. Newman started having terrible back pains. At one point, she had to lie down on the floor and moan. When your 76 year old arthritic, osteoperosis-riddled boss about whom you care very much lays on the floor moaning, you get stressed out. She told me that she often lies on the floor when she is in pain. In fact, she has delivered lectures lying down on stages, holding a microphone to her mouth. "The audience is very silent," she said when I asked what people do.

Can you imagine attending a lecture when the speaker suddenly informs the audience she needed to lie on the stage and moan in pain? I just hope she is feeling better soon because she is flying to Alaska to meet her new grandbaby. The strangest part is that I think Dr. Newman would love to join the crazy lady's political sing-along group. She does, after all, play the bells when she hikes in Wyoming.

Ethiopia, Gossip

Last night, the grad school girls went out for Ethiopian food, got smashed on wine, and gossiped until almost 2 in the morning. We put in a lot of hard work, tackling such topics as broken hearts, engagement stories, professor gossip, and even future goals and current frustrations. Somehow, everyone found room to eat cheesecake after the restaurant. Over twelve hours later, I am still full and can't even imagine eating a single thing. Drinking this water makes my stomach want to burst. Why would I still be full of delicious food after so long?

I was really interested that Llana was really interested in how Corey and I could quibble yet still live together. I was sharing the story of the soy milk lid, how it likes to live on the counter for up to thirteen weeks. I shared how I build around it, certain he will notice and then dispose of it until I go crazy and just shove it in his shoe. Llana could not imagine being able to stand things like that. I suppose it's kind of a trade off for how I hate changing the toilet paper roll. I just can't bear to pop off the plastic holder, throw the empty cardboard in the trash, and stick on the new roll. Cannot stand it. Corey always yells. But then I throw the soy milk lid at him and all is well.

I had intended to go for another super long walk this morning, but I feel too full. I'll have to postpone it until just before I put my chicken in the over. Yesterday, I explored Highland Park. It was really, really neat. Full of pedestrian staircases, playgrounds, tunnels with icicles. I love this city! Oooh, if I walk today, maybe I'll make my way all the way to the river and walk along that. Could happen if my stomach fullness goes down.

Mastering Poulet

I'm working through Masting the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child. I'm not trying to be like the Julie/Julia girl. I just received Mom-mom's old copy and want to be like her instead. Today I made really awesome chicken breasts. I sauteed leeks and garlic in butter and added celery and carrots for a minute or two. Then, I stuck the pan in the oven with the chicken breasts and baked and basted with butter. Let me tell you how good the gravy was that I made afterward.

It was the most amazing gravy in the entire world. As Julia suggested, I did not use a whisk to make it. I only used a wooden spoon to get up the scrapings and then added stock and more butter. This gravy was so freaking amazing. Smooth, leeky, heavenly. Corey said the following things about the meal before silently devouring it: Wow. This is really good. This is good.

ALSO, when I went upstairs to invite LeeAnn to my Sunday rendition of MtAoFC, she presented me with my very own library card! She totally registered me on her own with no official mail or anything. I love having a librarian in the building. She knows everything about online research, electronic journals and databases. She is just so darned resourceful. I am excited to serve her some chicken with a different gravy.

Black Balled

I have now tried two separate times to get a library card from the Carnegie Library in Pittsburgh. The first time, they sent me away because I had no proof of a local address. Then, when I went back with a magazine sporting my printed address, they said that was not official mail and was therefore no good. Official mail would be a utility or other bill. Only I pay all mine online, so I get no official mail.
"You can come back with your lease or you might go to the bursar's office and have them print your student record!" suggested the bouffant at the desk. Wait in line at the bursar's office? No thank you at the beginning of the semester.
All I really want to do is rent the first season of Lost and not have to pay for it. Is that such a huge wish? I suppose I shall have to trek in there tomorrow with my lease, which I have to renew by January 19, complete with the signatures of Herb and Nancy. Exciting times at the fax machine lie ahead!

Whole Paycheck

$60 worth of Produce from Whole Foods.

I'm sitting at my kitchen table surrounded by $60 of organic produce from Whole Foods. Since I got the produce at Whole Foods, I am not so much surrounded as spaciously circled with my scant bounty. Corey will probably kill me when he sees the entry on our credit card statement. I can't decide whether I should wait until he has a mouthful of delicious mushroom champagne risotto (made with $12 worth of fungus-dried porcinis and $6 of hand-picked Spanish saffron threads) or let him discover it on his own.





Fungus-dried porcinis and the fabulous risotto they make.





As soon as I unloaded my bags, I picked up Julia Child again. It's really a pretty interesting book. I can't decide if I'm so fascinated because it was Mom-mom's book with her notes and book mark or because I really want to learn how to blanch bacon. I think I am most interested in the descriptions of how common food items like butter are prepared differently in France than America. Or how to use vinegar to clean copper pots. It feels like science/social studies class when I read Julia. I think I just miss high school.

So whenever I finish munching on my $7 hunk of imported Gruyere, I am off to soak leeks and make a fabulous feast.

Stuffed zucchini and fabulous mushroom stew.

Orange Bowl Winners!

Corey and I stayed up till 1am watching football last night. But it was ok because Penn State won the Orange Bowl!! Such a dramatic game! I can't believe the missed kicks in that game. Those 2 guys will never forget or forgive themselves, either. Amy Manidis is still upset about missing a kick to lose nationals in 2002 for rugby.

We were SUPPOSED to have an Orange Bowl party, but Corey uninvited all his work friends. I was pretty bummed because I wanted to meet them. It turns out classes did not start yesterday, so I found myself with a free afternoon after an accidental arrival on campus. So I made soup and cleaned up some filth and even folded our couch blankets. But then Corey got home and there was no party. Now I'll never meet his work friends! Who wouldn't want to meet these strange folks who roll cigarettes with little machines at their desks?

Since classes don't start until today and I only have Monday/Tuesday classes, I pretty much have nothing to do until Monday. That means I will be Julia Child today and make use of one of the 2 French cookbooks I got. Also, I'll be making wild mushroom soup or corn chowder from Sami's vegetarian cookbook. Literally every recipe in that book is amazing and contains something Corey won't eat. I have decided to buy him 15 bags of rice-a-roni and make myself yummy things like potatoes au gratin and black bean soup. I could actually consider vegetarianism with a cookbook like this as my friend. Mmm! Wild mushroom risotto!

I'll be walking to Whole Foods later today to buy groceries. I hope our organic produce delivery starts soon or else Corey gets a job where he can take the bus. This walking business makes me feel complainy.